“Remember the gorge I told you about?” Lace asked. “It should run through the forest! If we can get across it, we might stand a chance at keeping them at bay and keeping the villagers safe!”

A spawnling jumped down from a tree, shrieking as it plummeted towards Lace. Kiren batted it out of the air and stomped on it in passing, caving in its bulbous chest with a dry crunch before he kept going.

“Sounds like that’s about as likely to get us killed as solving our problem!” Kiren said.

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Not really!”

“Then follow my lead!”

Lace made a quick estimation of where the gorge would be. The river had been on their left when they entered the forest but probably dipped to the south at some point. Judging by the location of the sun, they were roughly headed north.

“The gorge should be behind us!” Lace said. “If we go in a wide circle, we should be able to keep the Beasts off us while we double back!”

“I’ve got a better idea!” Kiren said. “Give these fuckers some air, will you?”

Oh, boy. Another one of Kiren’s brilliant feats, coming up…

Lace skidded to a stop and spun around. The spawnlings were just behind her, skittering like insects along the ground. One of them jumped for her. Lace threw out her arms and commanded the wind. A blast of air threw away all nearby spawnlings. The jumping spawnling dug a clawed hand into her forearm, drawing a set of bloody tracks down it before being tossed aside.

Lace struggled to catch her breath as if she had cobwebs in her throat. Cold sweat beaded her forehead.

Kiren rushed through the spawnlings, hacking at the ones in his way with his rusty blade. Lace followed in his wake. A few of the Beasts jumped onto him—clawing, tearing and biting at his flesh. He hissed and threw them off one by one, slicing limbs where they clutched too tight.

They reached the end of the spawnlings and kept running. Kiren had a staggering gait, his body covered in bleeding wounds that soaked most of his jerkin. She struggled to keep up.

Something yanked her leg. Lace fell hard, arrows spilling from her quiver. Her head burst into a brilliant spectrum of colors, crackling with pain. She groaned and rolled onto her back, unable to get back up.

Spawnlings crawled on top of her. She couldn’t see them, but she could feel them. Cold skin, moving like spiders across her, weighing her chest down until her already constricted breathing became impossible.

She needed to breathe. She flailed her arms as her lungs emptied, the air gradually squeezed out of them.

She called on the wind, but it didn’t answer.

Memories flashed, unbidden.

Kiren’s hands had been so very cold, that day. He’d held her tightly, so tight she could feel her bones creaking.

Not now. Not now, please.

The voice echoed inside her head. The one that always seemed to crawl through whatever barriers she put up.

You’re a brave one, aren’t you?

You’re dying, poor thing.

You’ll die, and no one will remember your name.

The terrible weight was suddenly lifted off her. She sucked in a breath, desperate and free, and the wind surged with her, knocking off another handful skittering creatures.

She was pulled into a sitting position by her tunic. She blinked until her vision slowly came into focus. Kiren stood in front of her, like a shield against the Beasts surging around them. He kept his back straight as they rent his flesh and spilled his blood. He stumbled but kept his footing.

“Get up, you fucking mong! You think I’m going to stand here forever?”

Lace snapped out of it. She flipped around on her stomach with a groan and got on her hands and knees, trembling with every aching breath.

“Okay…” she breathed. “Got to get up…”

She pushed herself up, but her arms were too weak and she fell back down.

A breeze tickled the side of her face.

More, it whispered.

Her vision flooded with white fog, and a sudden jolt knocked her onto her feet. The fog dissipated into fleeting wisps, shining like silk, and eventually those dispersed as well.

“What the hell…?” she said.

Kiren looked back. “Hurry it up!”

Kiren struggled to get himself loose from the group of Beasts as they crowded around him. When he got one of them off, another immediately took its place. More Beasts came out of the woods, almost thirty of them in total at a quick count.

Okay, I need one more. Just one more.

She put out one hand and braced it with the other.

“Kiren, jump!” she shouted.

He looked back briefly, swore, and threw himself to the right into a patch of small bushes.

Lace let the wind spiral around her arm and extend outward, pushing all the nearby air into a narrow funnel. The Beasts were knocked aside, thrown onto their backs.

More, the wind whispered.

Lace gasped for air as she relinquished her hold of the wind. She used her Power to push some down her throat, but it didn’t seem to make a difference.

Kiren got on his feet, bleeding from every part of his body. He nodded to Lace, and they both shambled towards the south.

“You’re insane,” Lace said.

“I sure hope so,” Kiren said.

They ran like possessed.

Kiren’s jerkin had been torn to shreds. His many wounds were taking longer to heal—several minutes passed and most of them were still bleeding. Those that were completely healed had closed over with ugly, puckered skin, sometimes bulging out in small lumps, even restricting his movement.

His Power must be reaching its limit, too. The more he heals, the more his body struggles to keep up, the more mistakes it makes.

Lace reached back for her quiver. A single arrow still rattled in there.

Her ankle stung sharply and her shoe squelched with blood. Every step became more of a struggle. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer.

“Hear that?” Kiren asked as they ran. He held up a branch as she passed, then let it go so that it whipped a spawnling in its shrunken head.

Lace strained her ears. Over her labored breaths, their uneven footsteps, the screeching wails of the Beasts, she heard something else. A clear, echoing purl, distant but getting closer.

The river!

They reached the end of the treeline and Lace skidded to a stop. A deep, rocky gorge cut the forest in half, at least three meters wide, stretching out to the left and right.

The humanoid stood before the edge of the gorge on their side. A line of dark, smoky fire, peaks as tall as a man, raged in front of it, making a thick wall. The Beast scraped its limbless shoulder and fed the fire with its own black blood, making it rage even higher.

“Fleshhh…” the Beast hissed. “Steal your skinsss… Come. Come. Come. Let me… wear youuu…”

Lace glanced back. The spawnlings were emerging from the treeline behind them, chattering with dark glee. The humanoid gestured with its one hand, and the line of flames began moving towards them, leaving blackened ground in its wake.

“Looks like we’re in a bit of trouble,” Kiren said. “You didn’t happen to think of a plan for magic fire, did you?”

“No,” Lace said. “Not quite.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Come!” the humanoid screeched.

“What do we do?” Lace asked.

The spawnlings hung back, jeering at the edge of the trees.

Lace drew her bow, which luckily hadn’t cracked. This was as good of a chance as she’d get to end the Beast.

It probably won’t save us, but it’s worth a shot.

Kiren cracked his neck one way, then the other. “I’m gonna give the fucker what he wants. Get ready to run.”

What? No!

“Kiren, don’t do anything—”

He took off in a sprint. He shielded his face with his hands and slipped through the flames. He let out an anguished cry as dark fire engulfed his torso, clawing hungrily as if it had a life of its own. He kept running, blade held high.

Straight at the Beast.

The creature attempted to dodge, but it was too late. Kiren slammed into it, driving his improvised knife deep into its chest, and sent them both toppling over the edge into the chasm below, wreathed in flames.

Lace gasped and the spawnlings screamed.

The flames wavered, their color returning back to what might be considered normal, bright oranges and yellows dancing.

“Kiren, you absolute idiot!”

Lace spotted a gap in the flames. She ran for it. Something felt wrong in her ankle, each step sending a worrying crunch up her leg.

The spawnlings followed, worked into a frenzy.

One more.

She got past the fire and ran to the edge of the gorge. There was no time to wait and collect herself. She threw herself over the edge, aiming for the other side, and yelled at the top of her lungs. The wind shoved her, carried her. She flipped over in the air. The world spun. She saw the sky, then the dark chasm below.

She landed on firm ground—bow flying from her grip—rolled, and came to a stop.

She gasped for breath and looked up, blowing hair from her face. An unintended—but welcome—consequence of her wind was that it had stoked the flames on the other side, making it nearly impassable once more. The spawnlings were forced to go around it, but the fire stretched a good distance.

There’s water below. Kiren might still be alive.

She crawled to the edge of the gorge and looked down.

Kiren dangled from her side of the cliff face, hanging from one hand. It had been impaled on the branch of a tree growing out from the cliff. He was attempting to get a grip on the uneven rock, but his hand slipped each time he tried as he muttered curses to himself.

“Kiren!” Lace said. She got to the very edge of the cliff face and put down her arm for him to hold onto. “Here! My hand!”

The humanoid struggled at the bottom of the gorge. It let out an echoing scream and started climbing up the side, going straight for Kiren. Despite its missing limb, it moved with startling speed, plunging its curved claws into the stone with ear-wrenching, scraping sounds.

“Hurry!” Lace said, more insistently. She could barely make words, her throat constricted and dry.

Kiren reached for her hand with his free one, gritting his teeth. Blood spilled down his impaled hand. His regeneration created pulsing, mutated flesh around the branch.

Lace reached down. Their hands were too far apart. She leaned down a little further, hooking her foot in a crack in the stone. It was still too far, about the length of a foot separating their hands.

Tears crowded the corners of her eyes, muddling her vision.

The humanoid still crawled, more than halfway up.

Kiren looked down. His lips went into a thin line.

“I’m dead,” he said. “You should run. You might make it if you go now.”

Lace reached down further. She squeezed the last bit of air from her lungs in a stuttering exhalation.

I can’t let this happen. Not again.

Help.

A white, translucent limb extended from her arm. Wispy, ethereal tendrils made fingers. It grabbed Kiren’s wrist.

Lace couldn’t make words, so she smiled instead. To show him it was going to be okay.

She pulled with all she had, strained tired muscles and forced new life into them, even as breath failed her and her lungs ached with the need for air.

The pain doubled, but she ignored it. She lifted him up, and his hand slipped off the branch, and Lace’s smile widened. He got the ruined hand over the edge of the chasm and lifted himself onto solid ground.

Lace collapsed next to him. The ghostly arm dematerialized.

That was it. It was all she could do. Her chest heaved, but no air came in. She sucked for air like a stranded fish.

The humanoid crawled over the side. It twisted its body and stood at full height, towering over them in the amber glow of the setting sun. Kiren tried to stand up, but he fell back down.

Lace pulled herself over to where her bow lay discarded. Her vision tunneled as no breath came. She caught the handle, spun onto her back, and nocked the last arrow in her quiver. She found no strength to draw the string. She had used everything.

The Beast regarded her. Its lips split in a ghastly smile once it saw her falter and turned its attention to Kiren. The creature pulled his leg so that he lay firmly on his back and raised its clawed hand for the death stroke.

“Know… my name… b-before you dieee…” the Beast spoke. “Nasaizh.”

The translucent hand wrapped itself around Lace’s. With its strength added to hers, she pulled the string back to her ear, quivering with the effort.

She aimed.

And let loose.

The arrow struck the Beast square in the chest. It let out a distorted howl, flesh undulating as it stumbled back. Its long legs faltered and it fell over the edge of the chasm. Its screams echoed up the rock walls, eventually fading.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.”

A black streak sped across the chasm.

Excelerate stood before them, arms tucked into his robe. He watched them both with the same half-lidded, neutral expression as always.

“I’ll cut you some slack and count that as a win,” he said.

Lace fell back, gasping. No air came.

No air.

She clawed at her throat.

No air…

The world faded into black.